Squints and Muscles

Hi everyone...Heather here.

I don't know how to make these updates cohesive or wrap this all up with a nice theme, so, I'm not going to. I would rather spend my energy on doing things that matter, like googling images of puppy and duck friendships or pretending that I'm a chef by cooking food sent to me by Hello Fresh. BTW-Cooking is hard and takes a long time. You know what isn't hard and doesn't take a long time? Rummaging through a box of shredded wheat and sipping a can of diet Dr. Pepper instead.

I digress.

I had another date. We'll call him Squints (In hindsight, he kinda resembled Squints from The Sandlot, but I didn't realize that before...) because he wore hipster/thick-rimmed glasses. Squints is a writer for a couple of publications in STL and he wrote a book. Weird.

The date went semi-well. We chatted about a lot of things, including 10 year HS reunions and him traveling through Cambodia or Machu Picchu or something. (I might need to work on my listening skills...)

Leaving the date was awkward. It was raining, and so we basically just ran out and Squints ran with me to my car. I had an umbrella, but, I felt like a pansy using it because he didn't have an umbrella. So, I literally ran in the rain while holding my umbrella underneath my arm. Cool move, Heather. Cool move.

The typical routine when leaving a date is this awkward dance of "Oh, I had a good time!".."Oh, me too!" .."Let's do something again soon!".."Oh, sounds good!".."Oh, text me when you get home!".."Oh, okay!" (I don't know why I'm pretending that every sentence starts with "Oh"...)...
However, because it was raining, this one was a quick "K bye!" (Which, if you know me at all, you know this is muuuuuuuuuuuuuch more my style....haha).

Neither of us said anything to each other that night....I started second guessing myself and wasn't sure if I had made it clear to Squints that I would want to hear from him again.....I broke down and texted Squints the following day to thank him for my drink and for meeting me. He responded a few hours later saying I was welcome and that it was nice to meet me, too.

And that's where it has ended. I have no reason to believe I'll ever hear from Squints again, which is fine. I'll live. On the other hand, I'd also be fine hearing from him again. So, I'll just sit here and bask in my stubbornness and refusal to initiate another conversation with him.

Moving on.

I started chatting with a guy from Match who turned out to be a bigger investigative creeper than I am. Let's call him Muscles (because he has them..and because he's a fitness trainer..and because I can't think of a better nickname) When he messaged me, I took screen shots of his photos to send to a few friends because Muscles is quite a looker. We messaged back and forth on Match for a bit, then he got my number and we texted for a few days. Of course, as soon as I had his first name and phone number, I was able to do all kinds of digging around online to figure out who he was. I learned enough to decide that he was probably a pretty good guy and probably wouldn't kill me and chop me up in little bags if I agreed to meet up with him.
 
The next day, I got a FB friend request from him and I nearly fell out of my chair.....and then rolled around on the floor...and then curled up in the fetal position because someone had finally out-creeped me and I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHO I AM ANYMORE! I don't know how he found me--considering that my first name is pretty common, he didn't know my last name, and my phone number isn't linked to my FB page. I can't even be creeped out by the fact that he was doing some digging around on me, because I had done the same thing. I just wasn't brazen enough to send him a friend request.

In an ironic turn of events (where I apparently was living in an alternate universe and breaking all of my own rules), I accepted Muscle's friend request.

..............And then I came to my senses, deleted Muscles off of my Facebook, and we haven't spoken sense.

Those are my best two stories for now...I'll hand the torch over to Holly.


Holly here...I mean, I don't have much to update with...and by "much" I mean any. Still a bumbling, hinging, mingling fool with zip to show for it....except for these little gems:

Woah. Slightly threatening but I don't hate it Alex...I share the same passionate viewpoint on brunch.

 

 

I feel like you're making a) a lot of assumptions and b) a lot of judgements. Maybe you're missing out because you do?! Ever think of that, Alex?

 

Bam. A man with a plan. Thanks for skipping the awkward "Where are you from?" chats. 

Confession appreciated and I also like long walks to Chipotle. Let's get married. 

 Bryan, if you can quote Ten Things I Hate About You on your tagline, then I basically trust you with my life. #seriously #canyoueverbejustwhelmed?

 PICK ME!!!!

I ALMOST wanted to know badly enough that I swiped right with sweet Fred here...almost...and now I'll just always wonder....

 What? Is that an empirically sound statement? I want some statistics for that one, Jared. And why is this your tagline?! I should swipe right with you because no one else will?

John, based on your sentence structure, your haphazardly placed period and your incorrect use of the adverb "snarkily," I feel you may not know how to do anything with a lady.

Keith. You sound adorable. However, you should know that while there is a LONG list of things we will not tell my mother, the fact that we met on here is not high enough on our list of priorities for us to spend much time dwelling on it.

 And I love a man who loves grills and slow cookers.

 ...

 ROBIN!!! ME TOO!!!!!!!!!

 TYLER!! I must find this song and relive my 7th grade year. Right. Now. Yuuupp...going on repeat.

Well, Willy, I suppose we should all be so lucky! Congrats on clearly and specifically identifying your type!

Hugs and frogs,

Heather and Holly

Everyday I'm bumblin'....

A note from Holly:

Christian Mingle stresses me out. Like, I don't want to mess with it...I dread the e-mails and opening the app on my phone gives me the same feels I experience when going in for blood work. Both require the same prayer: Please God, don't make me do this.

I knew I didn't like it, but I hadn't really thought about why I didn't like it until a few weeks ago at a dinner with Lovie. Lovie and I work together in Gamma Phi Beta land and she has been a great asset in my dating ventures. She's good for me in that she's a little less cautious and a lot more vocal about going after what she wants. She asked about my dating escapades and I was walking her through my recent Christian Mingle commitment. I was explaining that I was feeling really overwhelmed by it and she asked to see it. I started showing her my profile and while browsing we got a notification that someone wanted to chat. We declined. I kid you not, 10 seconds later, the same guy asked again. We declined again.

This is one of a thousand reasons I don't even like opening the website/app. Before I can switch to "offline," people are already trying to "chat." I don't want to chat with you. I don't know you. If I want to chat with someone, I've got plenty of people to text. Heck, I've even got plenty of other non-friends to deal with that also offer a chat feature (Amazon owes me a rug, AT&T overcharged me, USPS lost my package, etc.) I would rather chat with any of them than feel forced to respond to a chat from someone I don't know when they have clearly creeped on my profile and I have not had a chance to do the same. Just stop it.

Additionally, Christian Mingle shows everything. If I view someone's profile, they get a notification.It's like LinkedIn but worse! If I'm on the fence about responding to someone and need to re-read their profile, I certainly don't need Christian Mingle to tell them I keep re-reading it! And my friends want to see your picture? So sorry gals, we're not going back to his site to save my life! He'll know we're looking!

Also, you can "favorite" people....and then it tells you when someone has favorited you. And guys, I kid you not, people will favorite you without messaging you, chatting with you, or even "smiling" at you. IT'S SUCH A CREEPY FEELING.

And speaking of "smiling," that's another stress all it's own. I suppose the idea is to let someone know that you would, in theory, smile at them if you saw them out and about. However, Christian Mingle forces you to add some kind of text to the smile. Therefore, these poor guys and gals are forced to select from a myriad of "smile" phrases that are awkward, abrupt, cheesy, or just weird. Here are some options I literally copied and pasted from my inbox (which was death defying because I had to go "offline" REALLY fast to avoid that stupid chatting feature):

1. "Hi! I would love to meet you. What are my chances?"
2. "I like your smile."
3. ""Strengthen me with raisins, refresh me with apples; for I am faint with love." - Song of Solomon 2:5"
4. "How YOU doin?"
5. "Are you lost? Because heaven's a long way from here."
6. ""And the Lord God said, 'It is not good for the man to be by himself. I will make one like himself as a help to him'" - Genesis 2:18. Maybe we were made for each other."
7. "I'm not very good at flirting, but can I practice with you?"

Guys, this could go for days and all of them stress. me. out. Each of them makes me feel a pressure to respond or run...some both...but I just hate feeling inundated by them. And then because I feel inundated, I don't really take the time to look at profiles to decide whether I should message back because then they'll know I looked and what if I don't want to message them back? Then they know I looked and didn't respond AND THEN SOMETIMES THEY EVEN SEND MULTIPLE SMILES. Like, if I didn't get to them in a 24 hour time span, they just keep 'em coming. Sending me seven a day doesn't increase our compatibility, friend...

Let me be clear here. I'm a) not drowning in boys who are interested in me and b) I'm not unflattered by the boys who are. That said, if this were real life, and we both weren't behind screens, I promise you that I would call the police on some of these people. Being flirty is nice. Not taking "no" for an answer makes you a bully and I can't deal with it.

It's just a lot....it's a lot for a girl who's been single a long time and it's a lot for someone who doesn't know if she wants this...As someone who really had her heart set on a fairy tale, this feels more like a frantic scramble. Remember in high school when a boy would tell his friend to tell your friend that he thought you were cute and that he wanted to take you to lunch? Yes. Let's do that again.

As I was talking this through with Lovie, she seemed to identify part of the problem. I'm not in control. When she originally suggested that struggle, I pushed back. I'm not a control freak! (Okay, maybe a little...but I'm flexible! To a degree...) But as Lovie kept talking it through, I realized how right she was. I think Christian Mingle stresses me out because I can't seem to get my head above water. Other people look at my profile, they favorite me, they fill my inbox with messages and smiles and I have absolutely no control over it. I can't make someone remove my face from their "favorites" list. I can't stop someone from viewing my profile several times a day even after I haven't responded to messages. I can't keep people from sending messages directly to my phone any time I open the app. Really, all of this works together to make me feel creeped out and EXTREMELY vulnerable. I abhor both of these sentiments.

And then Lovie suggested Bumble.

Bumble was apparently created by ex-Tinder employees to address some of their lessons learned and I must admit, I'm a fan. It works very similarly to Hinge/Tinder in that you see a few pictures with a brief little info session and then you swipe right to say "I'm interested" or left to say "Not so much." And you know what? When you swipe left, they can't message you, smile at you, favorite you or chat with you...and it's a glorious feeling.

If you like them and they like you, then you're free to chat. HOWEVER, unlike it's Hinge and Tinder counterparts, only females can initiate the conversation. The guys can see that they've matched but literally can't do anything about it until the girl decides to message.

This. Is. Brilliant. Heather talked in a previous blog about the weirdness that surrounds the question of who should talk first. Traditionalists would say that the man should make the first move with feminists arguing that they are capable of doing so and then weirdness ensues. However, there is no question with Bumble. Girls talk first. End of story. This way guys can't get upset if they feel the girl is being a little too assertive and girls can't get upset if he never messages. The rules are clearly established. I enjoy clearly established rules.

Now, I was originally a little more skeptical for two reasons:
1. These people have not been vetted through friends. There really is something comforting about Hinge in that everyone you could be matched with actually knows a really life person that you know. That's comforting and makes psychopaths seems a little less likely.
2. I lost my initial filtering choice - religion. Whereas Hinge and Christian Mingle give you the option to dive into that detail, Bumble doesn't ask about it and doesn't make it easy to find without you asking.

So while contemplating these issues, I got the most hysterical and ironic piece of humble pie I've ever received. I matched on Bumble with a boy I had already matched with on Hinge. He met all of my initial checkpoints on Hinge but had never messaged me....and now here he was on Bumble...where I had the power and approval to message him! Wahoo!

And then this happened:

And I became LIVID.

I can actually think of several of my friends who are laughing at this right now. They're laughing because FOR YEARS I have said that if a boy doesn't use proper grammar, then we aren't going to work out. I have literally de-friended people on Facebook for consistently using incorrect grammar.

Now, before some of you get defensive, I understand that this is a "me" problem. I have always enjoyed writing, I chose a career path with writing, and I also have just enough OCD to care about these types of things. However, it's a "me" problem that also pays my bills so I'll only apologize to a certain degree. That said, I absolutely understand that typos happen. They happen to everyone. However, not retaining ANYTHING from 1st through 6th grade did not happen to everyone. That's a "you" problem.

So imagine my horror and outrage when I was on the receiving end of a message from an unkind, ill-tempered, grammar elitist! I shake my twice degreed, published fist at thee, you ruling communist!

Lesson. Learned.

So the really, really, really great thing about Bumble is that you can unmatch with people so they can no longer communicate with you....or you no longer have to stare at your glaring failure of a message.

Wah. Wah.

More details later, but I'm becoming a bumbling pro. ;)

----------------------------------------------------

A note from Heather:

So, I went to Denver a few weeks ago. I'm officially Denver's number one fan.

On my way to Denver, the most wonderfully bizarre thing happened.

I was seated next to two individuals on the plane who seemed to be somewhere around my age. After making a comment to the girl next to me about her cute tote bag (y'all, it had PORCUPINES on it. I needed it...), the conversation snowballed into a 2 1/2 hour chat amongst the three of us. To make a long story short, a sweet girl (Stephanie), a sassy guy (Travis), and I spent the whole plane ride talking about our lives...our ups and downs...our relationship failures...and ultimately, we all exchanged phone numbers at the end. We chatted throughout the weekend while we were all vacationing in Denver.

And then, we all met up for dinner last week while back in St. Louis. 

Here's where this anecdote becomes applicable:
Travis wanted to look at my Tinder profile; he wanted to gauge how I had presented myself. Travis, without any inhibition, made it clear that I was doing a lousy job of presenting myself accurately. (Travis also shared that I basically made a horrible first impression on him and he thought I was a bit cold....man, if I had a dollar for every time I heard that....) Some of you have noticed that I've lost a few lbs in the past several months, and you've also noticed that I chopped off my hair. Some of my photos (in Travis's words) "weren't doing (me) justice". Travis showed me his Tinder profile, and explained his reasoning for each photo he used. ("This one shows that I can be silly..." "I'm in the center of this and look like an alpha male...")

So, that night I switched my main picture to a more recent picture.

Guys, it's like I just went from being an ogre to being Halle Berry. 

The messages increased...the matches increased...the inappropriate comments increased...

This is largely infuriating, and I can't help but feel like all of the extra attention is solely due to shallow reasons...

But, I get it. 

Welcome to the world of online dating, where a flattering photo makes the difference between finding your soul mate or not.

I can't say I'm swimming through any strong potentials here, but, there have been some promising and interesting conversations.

A prime example of the antithesis of a promising conversation occurred last night. This is when a seemingly sweet boy named Jason, who had described himself as a southern gentleman, and I were chatting. Within a few minutes, he got reallllllllllllll creepy and started talking about "coercing" me into "wearing cowboy boots for him".

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand we're done here, Jason.

Anyway, Travis and Stephanie have so graciously offered to help me create a Christian Mingle profile. This hasn't happened yet, but, we all know I'll be blogging about it when it does..


Hugs and frogs,
Holly and Heather

Well, we auditioned for The Bachelor...

A note from Holly:

Seriously. We auditioned for The Bachelor. And it was...interesting?

Before we get going here, I'd like to give the disclaimer that Heather was completely opposed to doing this originally. I practically begged her to choose this past weekend to come visit (she was looking at several dates) so that we could audition in Hanover. I'm pretty sure I threatened to expose secrets on the blog if she didn't oblige.

She came.

Obviously, I've got some pretty impressive dirt. ;)

Heather got here late Wednesday and after a magical day in Georgetown (shoutout to Kafe Leopold's), we came back to my house to start the process of getting acceptable looking. I feel like I should point out how difficult things started getting at this point...things got real...like, how should I fix my hair? red lips? no red lips? how big are these brows going today? Good heavens! They aren't going to make me take off my Spanx are they?!

In the midst of my nail polishing, exfoliating, shaving and praying, I looked at Heather who seemed calm as a dadgum Buddhist monk. She was checking her phone...with wet hair...and running shorts on...

Me: Kid, are you going to put on make-up?
Heather: I'll do it in the car.
Me: *Internally seething about her ability to do this* What about your dress? Are you going to iron it?!
Heather: I feel like you would care about it being ironed but I really don't.

And back into the bathroom I went...

After all necessary prep work had been completed, we trudged out the door...into a monsoon...where Heather was kind enough to give me the good umbrella. (She totes appreciated the effort that goes into dealing with my hair.)

We took off for Hanover (which is a smidge south of Baltimore) and while the GPS said it would take an hour, I'm proud to report that it only took 45 minutes. Just call me Holly Gordon.

On the drive, Heather and I decided to do a little practicing. Neither one of us had ANY idea of what to really expect but, had done enough research to know that there were going to be questions. Here's a sample of the ones Heather and I made up for practice:

Heather: What's something unique about you?
Holly: I can say "Kiss me because I'm single" in nine language.
Heather: Girl! You better be able to back that up! Let's hear 'em!

Holly: Do you have any special talents?
Heather: Uhhhhhh....hhhhhhmmmm...nope. Nothing comes to mind. Thanks, Hol.

Holly: Why do you want to be on the Bachelor?
Heather. I don't.

It was a swell ride. ;)

The auditions were from 5-9 and we arrived at 7:45 thinking we had plenty of time to go in, "audition" (whatever that meant) and then go get some dinner. Wrong. So. Very. Wrong. I'll spoil the ending here: we didn't leave that place until midnight.

This was mainly due to the fact that there were SO many people. While predominately female, there was also a nice representation of the male gender. We spent a substantial amount of time trying to figure out if the men were there to try and date the next Bachelor or to be the next Bachelor. It was unclear for a few candidates. Regardless, there were beautiful men all around!

I'm pretty sure Heather and I signed something that said we wouldn't give away details. I'm not 100% of this because when we saw the line, Heather and I were committed to hustling! We started out by filling out the paperwork that I didn't read which did include a questionnaire about my love life, hobbies, etc.

Next, we had to get in a different line to take pictures.

Heather getting her picture taken!

This is really where I started to feel the full weight of this commitment. The line was long and therefore, BARELY moving. As such, we all just stood around and stared at each other until it was our turn to be forever immortalized in a Bachelor hard drive for the rest of posterity. The picture taking lady was so sweet and after my round of pictures I asked her if I could choose an Instagram filter for my pictures. She graciously laughed at my "joke" and told me no. All chances shot at this point.

After pictures, we got in a line on the stage floor. They had a local news anchor there to "entertain" us but frankly, she was a little harsh and kept trying to force people to do dance parties. I avoided eye contact with her at all costs.

This is where Heather and I spent the vast majority of our four hours at the audition. We finally realized that they were taking approximately five people at a time from the line every 10-15 minutes. It was painful people. Painful.

To deal with this pain, they hired a DJ who occasionally played some awesome jams. Backstreet Boys made an appearance and so did "This is how we do it!" However, I'm saddened to report that "Cotton-eyed Joe" did not make the list. I mean seriously, it's not a party without Cotton-eyed Joe.

Heather kept asking me to tell her a story. I basically caught her up on every single detail of my life and during the course of that time, we moved six inches. This is when we became VVVVEEEEEWWWWWYYYY interested in the people around us. Heather noted that it's easy for girls to think they would be the kind of girl who gets along with everybody in the house but in these moments, with all these girls eyeing you up and down, you realize how quickly you might want to voice your opinions.

In addition to stares and sizing each other up, Heather and I were fortunate enough to have the life of the party a mere 5 people in front of us. Seriously. This girl was there for a good - scratch that - GREAT time. She was drinking and dancing and "wooing" and drinking and dancing and "wooing" and drinking and dancing and taking pictures with the security men and drinking and dancing and "wooing." I developed an affinity for her and told Heather that she was growing on me.

Heather told me to avoid eye contact with her as she might beat me up. (Note from Heather: No, I told Holly to stop STARING at this girl because it was weird. And, I felt like the girl had plennnnnnty of attention as it was.)

Valid point.

We also spent a solid amount of time discussing the guy and girl directly in front of us. They were fun to discuss because their relationship appeared to be an interesting one. They were standing very close to each other and were a little flirtatious. This meant they were either there to break-up over the Bachelor, try to date him together, or they were really awkward friends. It turned out to be latter.

We discovered this when they kindly turned around and offered us $5 to hold their place in line so they could go gamble. Heather and I politely declined the $5 but told them we would hold their spots with no problem. They then offered to give us half of any winnings they might incur. We still declined. They then offered to bring us food. Nnnnnnoooooowwwwww we're talking.

We wound up holding their place for around an hour and a half and in return, we got these precious things:

French fries have never tasted so good.
(Note from Heather: Add this to the list of times I was so excited about food that I could have cried...)

When they returned with wonderful sustenance, it was then that Heather and I asked the girl, Hailey, about her relationship with the young man. After much discussion, I decided to take matters into my own hands and discuss the situation with the boy who was too blind to see Hailey's wonderfulness. Unfortunately, I don't think I was able to make much progress because we FINALLY got to leave the line. (Note from Heather: Holly is downplaying this. She approached the guy when he was by himself and was aggressively interrogating him, while I tried to fiend off two potential bachelors who were hell bent on convincing me that the current bachelorette is a "slut". Ew. Go away. I don't want to be your friend, dumb boys.)

We left the line and were walked to another room where, wait for it, we got put in another line. At this point, it was 11:30 p.m. and I was seriously thinking about crying/walking out. However, this line was moving faster as there were about four closed-off curtain areas where each individual was taken back and interviewed by a Bachelor producer/assistant.

I won't type out too many details because a) I'm already about to bore you to death and b) I seriously don't know what I signed but I think it went well? I mean, it didn't go poorly?

Basically, I made a new friend, Kristen, who used to work at Disney! We talked about Disney and entertainment and CP programs and had a grand time! And then she turned on the camera, asked me some questions not related to Disney, and I walked out. Actually, she told me when she was going to turn on the camera and that I should be smiling when she did (this was much nicer than Heather's interviewer, who did not give such a courtesy, which resulted in the fear that the first 5 seconds of Heather's video shows her holding a sign with her name and number and a face that screams "mugshot.")

Heather was waiting outside, we said good bye to Hailey and her boy (GET IT TOGETHER, GUYS), got in the car, drove back to D.C. and crashed.


A note from Heather:

Holly summed up the night's activities pretty well, so I won't re-hash all of that. I will add a few of my notes about the night, though.

1) I understand that any reality TV show has negative and taboo connotations with it, especially the Bachelor franchise. I had a hard time agreeing to going to the casting call, and I'm having a hard time announcing it to all of y'all. The fact that my sister and I went to an open casting call isn't something we're really bragging about here. We understand the taboo; we understand we're being labeled as "those girls". I'm not striking it rich with desirable suitors via other avenues, so, I've really got nothing to lose. I mean, except for my pride and credibility, but, who needs that? In the grand scheme of things, we had a funny night of sisterly bonding and now have an interesting story that we can laugh about for years. (A note from Holly: And if I can get a husband out of it then I'm all for it!)

Holly: Excitement and Anticipation
Heather: Trepidation

Holly's attempt to prevent her makeup from settling
 into her smile lines. How's that for blog transparency? 

2) Standing in the lines for hours was rough. Not only because of the amount of time spent standing there, but because I have never felt like I was being sized up by everyone in the room. On the other hand, I was doing the same thing to everyone else. I was so disgusted with my judgmental internal dialogue, that I tried to stare at the floor or the walls rather than the other people. I'm sure if producers were observing the people in line, I looked like a reeeaaal cool girl based on this decision. Not. I usually operate on a "don't do anything to attract attention to yourself" mantra, but, this was especially true that night. I wondered to myself why I live in a world where invisibility cloaks aren't real...And then I wondered if anyone in the world has a job to create an invisibility cloak. If not, I think someone should create that job. I'll get the startup fundraising campaign started now.  I digress. I think this whole "sizing people up" business hit Holly hard too, considering the photo to the right here. 

3) This is along the lines of my previous point, but, I noticed some girls becoming catty about the other girls. I know mean girls are everywhere and we all can have nasty tendencies, but, this was surprisingly blatant. This really hit when we were in the final line/room with the curtained-off interview rooms. A girl seated next to me made a few catty comments about the process, which I assumed was anxiety/jealousy induced. We'll call her Stilettos (because she was wearing hot pink suede ones..) At one point, we could actually hear the answers of another girl who was in the middle of her filmed interview. The question asked of her was "What would your perfect date be?" I don't remember her exact answer, but it was something along the lines of going to an elephant rescue in Asia. Stilettos immediately laughed loudly and began degrading the authenticity of the interviewee's answer. Finally, when the interviewee walked back out to our waiting area, Stilettos said "Ohh, sorry. You didn't make it? Well, too bad. You can go save all the elephants on your own." Stilettos didn't necessarily say it TO the interviewee, but she definitely said it in ear-shot of the interviewee. I blinked at her, mainly in total bewilderment. In hindsight, I feel horrible that I didn't say something to Stilettos on behalf of the interviewee (and everyone else).... 

4) The filmed interview was surprisingly short and shallow. Actually, I guess I shouldn't be surprised by that, but I was. I expected there to be more questions, so I gave somewhat brief answers to everything. Anyway, the most shocking part happened right at the end. We'll call my interviewer "Unimpressed", because...well..I think she was unimpressed. After my final comments to Unimpressed about why I think I'm the bee's knees, Unimpressed told me that I would need to stand up in the corner of the curtained room so that she could film full body shots of me. Immediately, I asked her if she was joking. She wasn't. I hesitantly stood up, walked to the corner of the room, and I saw the camera following me. (This is the same moment where I thought to myself "There's no way to suck in your back fat, huh? Welp.) I stood in the corner of the room and watched the camera scan my body up and down. I asked "Is anyone okay with this? Like..does anyone stand up here with confidence and like this part?..." Unimpressed, who clearly wasn't sympathetic to my comment, said "Well, maybe they don't like it but they all do it." Egads. My inner feminist was revolting. I asked, "So..I just stand here? Am I supposed to move? Is this really happening? Do I put my hands on my hips? Should I turn? I'm confident but this is weird." 

Unimpressed said "You're fine" as she continued angling the camera to scan me from head to toe. I remember thinking "Should I have worn something skin tight? Is that what you're looking for here? I'm not okay with this. Also, I should have self tanned.", but I can't remember if I said any of that out loud. It was a weird struggle between "Um.. this is disgusting and dumb and y'all suck." and "Omg.. do they think I'm pretty?". I dance between that struggle on a daily basis, but, we'll save that for another blog titled "Feminists can like makeup, too."

5) Given the vapid nature of my interview and my not-so-brief freak out about the full body camera shots, I think I have a better shot of marrying Ryan Gosling himself than getting a call back. Even if I did get a call back, I don't think I could maintain any sense of professional credibility and be on the show. "Oh yeah, Ms. Stephens..I would love to chat with you about the 16 y/o kiddo I'm trying to find an adoptive home for. And yes, Ms. Stephens, you have seen me make out with a guy on national television...Yep..that's me.." Even though I know all of this, I still have the feeling like the producers are supposed to want me, which I think many of us experience with dating. Even if you know you're not interesting in a person or in an outcome, you still want to be wanted. You still want them to think you're worth it. I know it's an immature and inconsiderate mindset; I'll beat you to the punch and admit that. Insert Cheap Trick's "I want you to want me" lyrics here...

6) They gave out roses to all of the girls ahead of us, but ran out of flowers before they got to us. Kewl. I felt gipped and needed a darn souvenir from the experience, so I tried to get Holly to steal a cup from the bar. She refused. I tried to steal a pen from the casino, but, I lost it in one of the 2198437 lines. Double kewl.

7) We met a guy who has half a brain. Well, that's what he and his friend told us at least. I'm no neurologist, but, I couldn't imagine that being true. He told us Ben Carson was the doctor who operated on him. Ben Carson's Wikipedia page indicates he specializes in "the hemispherectomy, a drastic surgical procedure in which part or all of one hemisphere of the brain is removed to control severe pediatric epilepsy." So, maybe this dude really only had half his brain. Woah. Fascinating. I digress.

Anyway, this guy waited with the rest of us for hours and then when we were all finally walking over to the final waiting area for the filmed interviews, he and his friend disappeared. Holly and I can't figure out if he left due to nerves, or if he really had no intentions of ever trying out. A third option (that I hadn't previously considered) is that maybe he got distracted by the slot machines and then got abducted by mafia dudes. Hmm.

Hugs and frogs,
Holly and Heather

Poop and unicorns.

A note from Holly:

Wow, well, it's been an interesting few weeks in this gal's dating life. Before anyone gets excited, no one has offered to buy my dinner, but it's been interesting all the same.

Let's start with a conversation I recently had with my friend Eva. She is now on Hinge and has another friend who hinges as well. We were discussing how often we get matched with boys (we heart them and they heart us back) but then no conversation is ever initiated. She shared that her friend is actually doing a little experiment and is having great success! The second that she matches with someone, she's been starting up a conversation with one little symbol: the poop emoji.

Her return rate has been quite impressive. While I'm sure this speaks to male humor/frat talk, it is also probably strange enough to get her on their radar rather quickly.  My personal fear in doing this would be that I would instantly enter the friend zone. I have NEVER dated a boy that ever talked to me about bowel movements nor do I want to do so. Therefore, I feel like this kind of humor is better suited for a conversation amongst bros (a category I'm naturally trying to avoid at this point in my life). However, Eva, like myself, was rather intrigued by this concept.

As such, Eva took off with a plan of her own. Upon being matched with a precious little muffin, she also started a conversation with an emoji (okay, in Eva's case it was a demonstration of emoji skill that I may never possess)...but look at the darling (excluding profanity) conversation that followed:

Kevin, you're adorable.

So, next match I'm opening with an emoji!

So....that explains the first part of our title - let's get to the second.

I've been very fortunate to have exceptional bosses/mentors. Starting in high school with my cheerleading coach, I've been surrounded by amazing women that not only give support, but also guidance...and sometimes, harsh/constructive guidance. ;)

This is exactly where I found myself on a work-related trip with my boss last week. She is well aware of the frog blog (and supports it entirely) and I was actually discussing it with her on the drive. This is when she shared that she had read my last entry and wanted to know why I hadn't yet signed up for Christian Mingle. If I said it was the next step, why hadn't I done it?!

Uhhhh....

And then in true leader fashion, she gave me a deadline. Not just a deadline, but she put it in my calendar. We were doing it that night. Together.

I feel as though I'd like to take a moment to assess this situation for what it is. I would argue that very few people discuss their dating lives with their bosses. Even fewer seek out the advice of their boss on potential suitors. I daresay that I may be in a striking minority that sits down and creates an online dating profile with their superior.

However, that's exactly how it went down. After dinner we went out onto the hotel balcony and got after it! We started by choosing my username. After trying some obvious choices (RobertsH, HRoberts, RobertsH1, HRoberts1, etc.) we were getting nowhere. We sat there for a second and then she said "DCUnicorn."

I laughed.

She was serious.

I am now DCUnicorn.

It really was a stroke of genius on her part. My username has essentially become my conversation starter and as my boss pointed, it's a flattering one. My very first published article dealt with an online hoax surrounding unicorn meat. This starts a story where I *hopefully* come out sounding intelligent and ambitious.

Well played, boss. Well played.

Once a name had been established, we started creating my "about me" section which, as Heather described in a previous blog post, is a miserable experience. How are you supposed to make yourself sound desirable, sane, intelligent and altogether the perfect candidate for doing life together while keeping everything accurate? Impossible!

In true fashion, my boss took off tackling this head on. She started talking and I started typing. The end result wound up looking something like this:

I'm an Oklahoma gal who recently transplanted to the DC area. I love travel/adventure (lived in China for a year). I love sweatpants, a movie, and Nutella. 

 I'm pretty social. I'm fun-loving, always open to a challenge, tenacious

 a love for college football

I'm a program manager and also teach at a local university. Additionally, I volunteer with sorority

So at this point, I read back to my boss what I had gleaned from her points. I did provide the disclaimer that it still wasn't well-formated/typed-out/done but I felt that it had good bones. I read, she laughed, and then stood up and said "I'm going to get my laptop. E-mail that to me and I'm going to fix it."

Again, my boss is exceptional.

We ultimately wound up with something much more complete and flattering and my boss also provided unique input. For example, we took out "sweat pants" and replaced it with "yoga pants" under the assumption that men would find this sexier. (I feel that the real problem here is that they don't want a girl who wants to veg out with Nutella and watch Pretty Little Liars but it was kind of my boss to not point that out). She also had me add in the fact that I love children as this would make me seem more serious/more marriable.

Then, we took a hard look at my pictures.

My boss and I had already discussed the findings of a recent Ted talk I had watched that indicated that if you show a little skin, men are more likely to start a conversation. I felt that this was lacking from my Hinge profile. We strategically picked a few that provided a representative sample of my interests/personality with the caveat that I need to add a professional headshot as my boss pointed out that DC culture merits one. Still working on that...funny...all my headshots feature a crown on my head...anyway...

 Once we had DCUnicorn's profile all set up, my boss decided we should also tackle my Hinge profile. I still needed to show a little more skin and I had shared earlier in the day that I felt that I might need to bite the bullet and get a tagline for Hinge. I've found that men with taglines come across to me to be a little more serious (i.e., you took the time to make one so you're probably more invested in the outcome) so it makes sense that I should get one too. Heather and I (mainly Heather) had been working on a few but, as the picture of our conversation indicates, I wasn't feeling 100% committed.

I started reading through some of the ones that Heather had thought up, and my boss agreed with Heather's stroke of genius. We finally settled on one and updated Hinge as well.

So to recap, I created a Christian Mingle profile and updated Hinge IN ONE DAY. I mean, I'm not saying I deserve a medal but guys, that's hard work!

But maybe it's worth it...there seems to be lot more "someone in today's match has already favorited you" messages popping up when I log in. I suppose if this works out, I'm gonna owe it all to my boss! :)

Heather here.

While my boss hasn't jumped on the Two Sister Too Many Frogs bandwagon as emphatically, I do have support at work from coworkers, which is 45% weird, 50% awesome, and 5% terrifying. (I didn't even have to use a calculator on those percentages. Shout out to elementary school math....)

Many of you have asked about home boy that was mentioned in the last post. From here on out, we'll call him Law (he works in law enforcement, so, there's the simple explanation for that..). 

Law and I are donezo.

That was short lived, huh? Que sera.

Really, it came down to a few things that I couldn't get past and eventually made me want to stab him with a salad fork. (No, really, I thought about that over a lunch date at Houlihan's..) I'm pretty sure he didn't listen to the majority of things that came out of my mouth. This is fine for some people, but, I tend to think I've got important things to say (Shout out to an inflated sense of confidence and importance..) Also, throughout our brief stint of dating, it became glaringly obvious that he didn't value serving others on a micro or macro level. 

I already knew this was important to me, but, after my experience with Law, I've realized it's VERY important to me. 

He made several comments to me expressing confusion over why I don't get paid for my volunteer work. I'm lucky to surround myself with people who are also servant minded and enjoy attempts at altruism. Most of my friends and coworkers strongly believe in giving back and helping others. It's in my profession and in my social circles. Because of this, I was dumbfounded by his ineptness with the concept of volunteering. He also didn't understand why I was focused on getting another foster dog as soon as mine was adopted. He said "It's someone else's turn now. You've done your part."

Insert Heather's lunch-date-daydreams of stabbing Law with a salad fork. 

I won't ramble about why my priorities are what they are. That would be more appropriate in a blog titled "I do what I do because I care and because other jokers sit on the couch and don't step up..", so...I'll end my rant here.

Law also admitted to me on one of our last date that he had forgotten to brush his teeth and that's why he had ordered a Mojito..because it had mint in it....I can't make this up, y'all. 

Anyway,
So I'm back to the drawing board.

Hugs and frogs,
-Holly and Heather

PSYCH. I don't have a comfort zone.

Heather here.

I don't know what to say, but if another one of my friends makes a snarky comment about my lack of posting, I'm going to lose it. (I'm looking at you, Amanda..) I've been doing a sugar detox this week, so my close propensity to "lose it" might be more due to that, but, whatever. Again (for the 3rd time through this blog), I yam what I yam. (I wonder if I can eat yams while on this detox...hmm..)

I'm approaching date four with a nice guy, which is why I don't know what to say. I don't want to share details with a positive twist, and then change my mind or learn he's changed his. I don't want to share things with a negative twist, because then if this is somewhat sustainable and continues, then that's just awkward.

Do normal people use the word "sustainable" when describing prospective relationships? Probably not. I guess they don't call dating "prospective relationships" either. Whatever.

So, unfortunately for you blog readers, I'm not going to give you any juicy details about this guy. That doesn't seem fair to him at this point. Also, he doesn't know about this blog. He doesn't seem like the kind of guy that will love this, so, I'm going to have to dance carefully over this bridge of troubled water.

However, I can share some details about what I've learned of myself over the past few weeks.
-I like guys that plan. So far, I've been largely irresponsible with planning our conversations and dates. He takes initiative and rocks it.
-I ask a lot of questions. Okay, so I already knew this one. It's the social worker in me.  Also, it's the "Hurry, end this awkward silence before he decides you're boring." in me. I've tried to gauge my question asking on these dates and tone it down some, but, man it's hard. It's especially hard when you have big existential deal-breaker questions on your mind, but you're trying to be normal and go with the flow. Gah, normalcy is hard.
-Gray-areas are my kryptonite. Not only is there this huge gaping gray area regarding the status of our dating gig, but, there are gray areas about our thoughts, beliefs, and values. I HATE THIS. I have honestly had to talk myself out of sending an e-mail with a bullet point list of everything I'm wondering about (ie: open to fostering/adopting? open to never owning another pet that isn't a pit bull? believe in Jesus and grace and serving others? has he seen Blackfish and did he cry?). I understand that this would reveal another realm of my crazy, so I haven't done that. Again, normalcy is hard.
-Different can be good. It can also be bad, but, I'm talking about the good kind of different here. It can be scary, and can lead to vague conversations with your friends that swim around the statement, "It's just really different..." I also am recognizing that he and I are different. For example, he randomly asked me if I owned dumbbells and I laughed and said "ppppfttt....yeah.", not realizing he was asking the question seriously. He thought when I said "yeah", that I was being serious. It felt a wee bit awkward when I said "No..I'm kidding...Of course I don't own dumbbells..." Anyway, I think for now different feels refreshing and enlightening. It's been good to branch out from my comfort zone a bit.

PSYCH. I don't have a comfort zone. I'm awkward all of the time.

Moving on.

A note from Holly:

Yup, so Heather's got her a maybe, kinda, sorta fella. I won't comment on him, as this would be unfair given that I've not met him, but I will say that I'm vvvveeeeewwwwwwwyyyyyy interested in how this all pans out. And should we wind up meeting in person, brace yourself sir. If you thought Heather's incessant questions were bad, I'm about to blow your mind.

I totally sympathize with Heth on struggle to fight your natural instincts so that you can wind up appearing approachable, unintimidating, and kind.

Of course, ,there is a time and a place where you should go with those instincts. Just follow where they lead. For example, this is where they led me today in the grocery sure when I was approached by mid-20's wanna-be soccer player:

Juan Pablo: "Excuse me, are you single?"
Holly: "I am not."
Juan Pablo: "Oh, okay. Do you know where the olive oil is?"
Holly: "I do not."
*exits Juan Pablo*

Yeah, feeling good about my instincts there.

Just as an additional update, I haven't mustered up the interest to sign up for Christian Mingle (this is my decided next step). I feel like it requires so much effort and frankly, I'm all out of it.

However, to follow up on a conversation I shared regarding how I should be aggressive, I decided to walk the walk. I opened up Hinge, found the the father of my future children, and decided to message him (he had not yet messaged me...must be one of those excuses we outlined - he's intimidated, he's busy, he's unable to operate the app?) 

Anyway, I consulted Heather and several co-workers (shoutout to Mike and Eva!) about exactly what I should say to him. Upon suggesting "Hi. :)" Mike commented that it seemed suggestive - that I was giving away the fact that I was interested. Yeah, Mike. That's how dating sites work. :)

Anyway, I bit the bullet and sent the suggestion. He saw the message. He has yet to reply. And that's that.

In other news, here's my most recent batch of favorite Hinges!

 

Cool. 

(mental note: add "human" to my list of dating requirements)

Alright guys, call off the man hunt. We've found him.

You remind me of favorite ADHD mermaid.

At least he cites Diffusion of Innovation Theory?

...and the players gonna play, play, play, play.
But seriously, so cool that you also abide by my life motto:
"Always be yourself. Unless you can be unicorn. Then you should be a unicorn."

Me too, Clyde. Me too.

I feel like if you have to tell me that you do, then maybe you really don't?

You know, this is a really great question, Doug!

No.

We started off so strongly, Morgan...and now you seem like 14 year-old punk.

I appreciate your honesty, Stan. 

Thanks, Stevel. (Yes, STEVEL) Could you maybe go talk to Jon?

And on a final note, I did have a conversation of promise but, alas, it ended a mere 72 hours after beginning. For the record, any guy that starts off with questions about Boston is bound to do well in my book.

He even downloaded and listened to Boston's namesake (Boston by Augustana)! Oh, the potential Christopher D!

Hugs and Frogs,
Heather and Holly

Suck it up, pansy.

A note from Holly:

Sometimes I miss highschool Holly. She had a lot of faults – some of them still make me cringe – but she had a…uuhhh…softer side? As in…she cried, a lot…and in addition to incessant weeping, she need a whole lot of consoling, comforting, nurturing, babying...

As I attempt to switch out of referring to myself in the third person, I’ll share an example of my former self. I remember, quite vividly, being dumped by…hhmmm… let’s call him David. David had gone away on a trip, bought me a stuffed animal, and then upon returning from said trip and placing said stuffed animal in my hands, he ended it. (Note: stuffed animals are not appropriate parting gifts.) Anyway, I cried about it on the drive home, I cried about it to Dad when I got home, I cried about it to every friend I called that night and then, on the way to school the next morning, I literally bought a bag of bon bons, drug it to each class with me, and. ate. the. entire. bag. (shoutout to highschool Holly’s metabolism). And while I don’t understand why people tolerated this behavior, I had a myriad of friends who not only tolerated it, but did exactly what I needed them to do: they told me I was too good for him, that I was pretty, that I would find someone better, that it was his loss…

I know we grow up. We change. Life makes us do it…and life has certainly changed me in this regard.

Don’t get me wrong, I still cry (I’m not a robot for crying out loud!), but the frequency and length of those tears has greatly decreased. 

I’d like to think that the change was internally driven – that I just woke up and decided that I don’t need constant affirmation from others that I am, in fact, still okay. However, that change was based on an external factor… we can probably just refer to him as ground zero.

I don’t want to talk about ground zero today, but I do want to talk about the interesting responses I receive from people when I start talking about my dating failures. (At this point, there have been multiple failed meetings, failed conversations, and over all failed connections). While a myriad of “excuses” are provided ranging from “he’s intimidated by you” to “I’m sure he has a really busy schedule”, the one that I just can’t seem to let go of is “I bet he found out about the blog.” This one sticks out because while most of the other excuses given are ultimately an indication of encouraging friendship, I can’t help but feel differently about the blog comment for the following reasons: 

1. If a man is scared of my blog, I don’t want him anywhere near my bed. Seriously. I’ve had an escape route mapped out in every place I’ve ever lived, practice dialing 911 with my eyes closed in case I ever needed to do it behind my back, and sleep with a hammer. If you can’t up my self-defense game, then Boston and I just don’t have any room for you. You can’t sit with us.

2. Let’s give you the benefit of the doubt and say that you are physically able and willing to not be afraid of a blog. Let’s say you fear reputational damage. I’m in PR. I get that. My counterargument then is if you value your reputation so much, I bet you wouldn’t do anything stupid enough/insulting enough for me to want to write out a list of your offenses…now would you? If you’re nice, I’m nice. This is one of those golden rule type of things…

3. To my darling friends/family who offer this excuse, WHY DO YOU WANT ME WITH THIS KID, ANYWAY?! I would hope that you’d want me with someone brave, someone who isn’t afraid of the pen – even if it is mightier than the sword. Don’t you want me with someone who trusts me not to publicly degrade him or embarrass him? How on earth would a relationship work if that wasn’t a mutual sentiment?

Friends/family, don’t get me wrong. I value your input, I love your support and I’m so incredibly grateful that you take time out of your lives to discuss this with me…but I don’t need the excuses. Maybe the boy didn’t finish our conversation because he took another look at my picture and decided my nose is big. It’s okay guys, I think my nose is big too. Maybe he didn’t want to meet me because he hates all the pictures I post of Boston. That’s okay, I’m sure he can find someone who isn’t in a committed relationship with their dog. Maybe he thinks I’m fat. That’s okay, I hope he finds someone skinnier. Maybe he really is intimidated by my blog. That’s okay, maybe he’ll find a girl who’s illiterate. ;)

In sum, it’s okay to just say “suck it up, pansy.” Tell him...tell me...I mean, it's what I would now say to highschool Holly…


A note from Heather:

I agree with Holly.
I mean, I agree that the "....a guy isn't going to want to be on your blog" comments are not welcome or warranted. Trust me, Holly and I are well aware that we're presenting ourselves as freak shows to any potential suitor that finds out about this blog. No need to remind me..noooo need. I know this blog could scare guys away, and I also know I need NO help scaring off guys. As I said before, I yam what I yam. And this yam doesn't give a.....................flip. Between Holly and I, I'd say we're pretty decent catches. If you combine our best qualities and ignore our worst qualities, we're totally a catch and a half. If what we bring to the table (including a transparent blog) frightens a guy, then adios, amigo. Catch ya on the flip side.

Anyway, I don't have any very juicy updates for anyone. I do have a lunch date planned in the next few days. I also have plans to finish an entire bag of chocolate chips, which I'm doing right now. Unfortunately, these two plans don't sound equally exciting to me at this point. I'm much more "team chocolate chips" than "team lunch date" right now.

I'm sad to report that my lunch date is NOT with this guy:

This conversation went on for an embarrassing amount of time. He eventually asked me why I wasn't out "getting wild" that night. Andddddd.......conversation ended there. #theonethatgotaway

Also, I got my first "age is nothing but a number" message from a guy MUCH, MUCH, MUCH older than I am. I was wondering when it would happen and well, it was just as weird as I thought it would be. After he favorited my photos, favorited my profile, sent a wink, and sent multiple messages in a one hour time span, I thought "No, age is a lot more than a number. In this case, age has a positive correlation with emotional instability, social ineptness, and the ability to give me the heeby-jeebies. See ya never."

Hugs and frogs,
Holly & Heather